


99.8%

by spideysmjs



Series: Spideychelle Week 2020 [2]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, It's Peter and MJ's simulation and we're just living in it, Mild Sexual Content, Soulmate AU, moments of disassociation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:41:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24855511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spideysmjs/pseuds/spideysmjs
Summary: “The system gains insight as each participant progresses through numerous relationships and uses the gathered data to eventually select an ultimate compatible other on your–”“Pairing day. I know. And it always finds your perfect match.”“In 99.8% of cases.”Black Mirror: Hang the DJ AU.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Series: Spideychelle Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1797640
Comments: 90
Kudos: 108
Collections: Spideychelle Week 2020





	1. part one

**Author's Note:**

  * For [screamingiminlovewithyou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/screamingiminlovewithyou/gifts).



**her.**

She glances up from her phone, her eyes searching for someone who’s looking for her, too. 

Then, she sees him across the room. 

He smiles at her and waves, and suddenly, she feels like they’re the only people in the crowded room — the only people in the world. 

This is it. It’s him. It has to be. 

* * *

She makes her way to the table the system has set up for their date, mimicking his movements until he runs into the table and the dishes clank and shake. His legs are apparently incredibly strong. She laughs. 

“Sorry. Plate,” he gestures. 

“Michelle,” she says. 

“No, my name’s not… plate,” he offers to shake her hand, and she grabs it. 

“I didn’t think it was. But now I kind of do.”

He laughs off the tinge of red on his face. “I’m Peter. I’m kind of a nervous wreck. This is my first time on the system.”

“Me too,” she says, her legs shifting back and forth in front of the white-clothed table. “Did you wanna sit?”

“I should or else I’ll keep breaking utensils, and they’ll kick both of us out.” 

“Wouldn’t want that would we?” she looks around the room as she tucks herself into the dining chair. The restaurant is dim, and so are its guests. The chattering conversations sound distant. Michelle can’t make up any of the words she tries to eavesdrop over, which — for the past few years — has been the one positive aspect of going on dates.

Michelle just… doesn’t think about dating. Not until her best friend convinced her to try the new system.

“So you’re a nervous wreck?” she lifts her eyebrows at Peter. He seems to stutter, answering her question, and proving his previous statement. 

He brings his hand to the back of his neck. “Unfortunately. As I said, I know nothing about how all of _this_ works. And you’re really pretty.”

Michelle sits and stares for a beat. “Therefore I have value?” 

“No! No, no that’s not what I meant—”

“Kidding,” she calms him down. “You, too. You’re pretty. Even if you’re a self-proclaimed nervous wreck.”

“Thanks,” he says.

“We can learn how the system works together,” she suggests. “Maybe let’s start with looking at the menu.”

She clicks on the screen as the voice in the box says, _Menu Established_. Immediately, the waiter comes with a serving tray, placing their respective orders in front of them. 

“I guess salad is the default for when you let the system know you’re a vegetarian,” Michelle says to her plate of salad. Peter has a plate of larb for his meal. “Thai food preference?”

“Yeah,” he answers, “my Aunt and I go once a month to catch up.”

“That’s sweet.” She takes a bite of her salad, the leafy texture crunching in her mouth. There’s no dressing, either. She watches Peter revel in the taste of his larb. When he opens his eyes to Michelle watching, he licks his lips and apologizes. 

“Did you want to try it?” he asks. She scopes the room again, a strange suspicion in the pit of her gut. 

“Are we allowed to do that?”

“I say, if you want some larb, eat some larb,” he takes a spoonful and offers her a bite, Michelle accepting the mouthful of spices — a dish way better than _salad_. “How do you like it?”

“Like I’m glad that I ate the larb,” she replies. There’s a long silence between them, but it’s not uncomfortable. They share a laugh and keep eating. He’s cute — the face of someone Michelle would notice going home from work in the subway. 

“So,” he starts, “we’re both first-timers for this.”

“Yup,” she says. “Should we check the expiration date?” 

“Oh, yeah. I almost forgot,” he takes out his device, “the actual selling point of the damn thing, right?” 

She pulls out her device. “Right. I think we just have to click _Tap to Reveal_ at the same time, and then we’ll find out how long we’re trapped with each other for.” 

He chuckles nervously again, and Michelle winks at him. She’s feeling confident – like maybe Michelle only had to put herself into this situation once to get the person that she’s meant to be with. Maybe she’s that lucky.

“12 hours,” Peter reads out loud.

Or maybe she’s not. 

_Damn._

“Damn is right,” he says. Her face warms up not realizing she’d reacted out loud, but when she looks to him to apologize, he’s grinning. “It’s kind of short.”

She swallows her salad. “Yeah. Maybe we should eat quickly.”

His eyes widen but he laughs. “Maybe we should.”

* * *

Michelle’s nerves start with her hands shaking in her lap, traveling to her chest as she tries to mentally prepare herself for whatever is going to happen with Peter. There’s not much, other than _one thing_ , she can think of. She turns to her left and watches Peter look out the other window, fingers tapping against the glass. If Peter’s game, then so is she. 

They have nothing to lose. She needs to trust the system. The system gathers information from every interaction with every person Michelle dates so it can find the perfect match for her.

It works 99.8% of the time. She better not be .2%.

The vehicle stops in front of a small burrow, gray cobblestones leading up to a navy blue door. 

“I guess this is us,” Peter says, jumping out of the vehicle after Michelle. The vehicle immediately drives away, leaving the two of them facing eleven hours left with each other. 

“Guess so,” she starts walking to the door, holding it open for Peter before she follows him inside. The interior of the home is different from the cottage front, a sleek and shiny look glossing over the walls and dark furniture. It’s modern and comfortable. There’s no kitchen amenities, Michelle assuming it’s due to their unfortunately short time together.

When they walk into the bedroom, neither of them are surprised to see one queen bed placed in the middle and a door leading into a bathtub. 

She didn’t think she’d be experiencing a one night stand for her first date from this system. When she excuses herself to freshen up, she sneaks inside the bathroom to seek advice. 

“Karen, what are we supposed to do now?” she whispers into the device.

_“Query too broad. Please narrow.”_

“Are we just supposed to… you know.”

_“I do not.”_

She groans, uncomfortable at her own question. “Are we supposed to have sex?”

_“Participants are not required to take any specific action.”_

“But… I mean, we can right? It’s only a short time.”

_“If that’s what you want.”_

“It’s up to us?”

_“It’s up to you.”_

Michelle shuts her phone off and sneaks out of the bathroom to see Peter pacing awkwardly by the accent couch in the corner of the room. “You know, I can just sleep here. No big deal. Or the living room has bigger couches, too.”

“Um, no worries, Peter. We can both fit on the bed. It’s okay with me if you’re comfortable.”

“You sure?"

“I just wouldn’t want your back to hurt tomorrow because of that chair,” she states, crawling underneath the sheets.

“Right,” he says. “Me too, me too.”

He crawls next to her keeping a significant space between them. In just a couple of hours, Michelle wishes she had met Peter somewhere else. If she did, she wouldn’t have a looming deadline to say goodbye.

Maybe Peter’s part of the .2% of participants the system doesn’t work out for, and when they find each other after it doesn’t work, they’ll run away together. That’d be nice. 

“Dating must have been hard before this,” he breathes. “Before the system.”

“You think so?” she asks, racking her brain for her past relationships, not being able to recall anything significant that made relationships seem so _hard_. She doesn’t even recall really trying for a relationship in the first place, which must be why her friend pushed her so hard to do this damn thing. 

“It’s just because,” he takes a deep breath before continuing, “when you get into a relationship with someone, you don’t know how long it can last, and if it lasts long, you don’t know if it’ll last forever.”

“Fear of the unknown,” she says. 

Peter gulps. She can feel his body tense up. “And you have to figure out if you want to break up with someone or not. And how.”

“Breaking up with someone,” she repeats. “Yeah, that’s scary.”

“It’s not hard when it’s all mapped out like this.”

She thinks about having to say goodbye to Peter in the morning. The best decision to make is to lie down with him, knowing that if Michelle tried anything else, she could miss him more than she plans to. “Yeah… much simpler.”

They both inhale and exhale deeply. Michelle lets her arm loosen up and fall closer to Peter’s side of the bed. She tucks her lips in and closes her eyes when her hand finds his and their fingers slowly intertwine. The touch is electric, pulsing, soft, and warm all at once. She keeps holding his hand until she falls asleep. 

When her eyes flutter open to the early morning sunrise, Peter’s turned onto his stomach, his arm resting lightly on her stomach. She smiles at him. She wishes she could have more mornings with Peter, feeling ridiculous for this desire knowing that they had only met hours ago. And yet, for whatever reason she can’t place, Michelle feels like she’s already met Peter before. 

She checks the time on the device, and there are 20 minutes left. 

“Hey, Peter,” she pokes his arm. 

“Shit,” he quickly shifts back to his side of the bed. 

“It’s okay,” she says. “I slept well last night.”

“Me too,” he rubs his eyes, voice still croaky and tired from sleeping. “I haven’t slept well in a while.”

“Me neither,” she says. “We have maybe 18 minutes left.”

“Oh,” he breathes. “Oh, okay. I should get myself together then.”

They’re back in their clothes from the night before, Michelle clinging onto her coat because there are no clouds in the sky and the cool breeze is refreshing – a perfect day. When they wait for their respective vehicles to pick them up, Peter claps his hands together.

“Well,” he says, “thanks for being my first.”

“Yeah,” her eyes twinkle at his nerves because she feels the same way.

_3, 2, 1._

_“Please step into the vehicle.”_

“Damn, Karen,” Peter says to Michelle. “It’s time to say goodbye, I guess.”

“Yeah,” she hides her frown. “I had a great time, Peter. You were nice.”

_“Please step into the vehicle.”_

“So were you,” Peter says. “For the record, if we ever had this time again…”

“Oh, you could totally get it,” Michelle smirks, giggling as she starts to walk away. 

“Damn,” he smiles, watching her get into the car. “We fucked that up, didn’t we?”

“Everything happens for a reason,” she shrugs, raising the window up and waving goodbye as she tries her best to hide her disappointment in watching the distance between her and Peter grow further and further. 

They say you’ll never forget your first, and now Michelle understands why they say it. 

* * *

**him.**

Peter wishes Michelle was his last. 

He wishes that the damn system could tell how good they could have been together because, in those short twelve hours, Peter had never wanted time to move slower than it had moved before. 

After coming back from the date, he sits by the lake outside his place, skipping rocks into the water. “I just don’t see why it had to be that short. 12 hours. What’s the point in that?”

_“Even your reaction to a brief encounter provides the system with valuable information.”_

“How does the system know that Michelle wasn’t a perfect match for me? She was…” 

Great. Hilarious. Sweet. Beautiful. Understanding.

He wonders what else he could have learned about her if he was just given more time.

_“Your ultimate compatible other has not yet been selected.”_

“Yeah, I know but–”

_“The system gains insight as each participant progresses through numerous relationships and uses the gathered data to eventually select an ultimate compatible other on your–”_

“Pairing day. I know. And it always finds your perfect match.”

_“In 99.8% of cases.”_

99.8%. He sighs, running his hands through his hair, grabbing the flattest stone he can find, seeing if he can break his record of four skips. 

_1, 2, 3, 4._

He tries again.

 _1, 2, 3, 4_.

Peter tilts his head, wondering what technique he can learn to get more than four skips. Fixated on breaking his record, he grabs his phone out as it buzzes at the same time. 

“What’s this?”

_“Another date, Peter.”_

“Already?” he frowns, realizing now that this might be one downfall of the system. The system doesn’t take into account how soft Peter is and how easily he can fall for people. 

He remembers the night before clearly. He remembers how he and Michelle held hands as they slept and ended up tangled up in each other’s limbs before she woke him up the next day. He wishes he can wake up with her in the morning. 

Michelle’s going to be hard to forget, and in all honesty, Peter doesn’t want to forget about her.  
  



	2. part two

**her.**

“Karen, tell me that’s him,” she whispers into her device. Because holy _wow_. 

“ _I cannot confirm an identity until an introduction is made.”_

Michelle watches the man move across the room, the same table she was at just a few days ago with her first – with Peter. She still thinks about him sometimes, but perhaps it’s because Peter is the only experience she has had so far with the system. Although Michelle can’t help but feel an inch of disappointment knowing Peter seemed like a perfectly fine person to continue to date, she reminds herself that everything happens for a reason.

The man walks up to her, confident and prepared, unbuttoning the button of his dark grey blazer as he says, “Hello.”

“Hi,” Michelle greets him, using her energy to look as secretive as possible not wanting to reveal her nerves.

_“Identity confirm–”_

“So,” she speaks louder to mute out the unwanted utterances of the device. 

“I like your hair,” he comments.

“I grew it myself,” Michelle snorts. The man doesn’t laugh. Her smile quickly disappears into the dim lighting of the restaurant. 

* * *

**him.**

“Hi,” Peter arrives at the table. His date, chin in hand and elbows perched on the table, rolls her eyes. She doesn’t stand up, so he offers his hand as he says, “I’m Peter.”

“I’ve been waiting.” She doesn’t reach for his hand as she huffs, checking the watch on her phone. 

“You already started eating?” he asks.

“I was hungry.”

“Oh, of course! I understand,” Peter tucks himself into the chair across from her. She waves her hands, gesturing instructions in the air.

“Let’s get to it. The expiry date.”

Peter’s eyes widen quickly, immediately shuffling for the device in his pocket. “Right, right.”

His hands shake as he brings his device forward, ready to sync up with his date’s. The date whose name he has yet to learn. The date he met immediately and knew wouldn’t be the one. _This is just a temporary fix,_ Peter thinks to himself as he unlocks the screen. Just another 12-hour romance, just as he had the first time.

Even though he thinks nothing can top his night with Michelle.

“One year,” the girl says.

Peter blinks. “That’s not right.” 

She raises her eyebrow. Peter doesn’t hold his blush, smiling nervously. And then, word vomit. “I just–Karen, this must be a mistake?”

The girl doesn’t look offended. She nods along to Peter’s claims. 

“ _This is not a mistake.”_

Her shoulders deflate, as does Peter’s. There’s a beat of silence as she scoops her utensils and begins to eat again. Her eyes lock with his as she says, “There’ll be a reason. I’m Felicia, by the way.”

* * *

**her.**

“Brad,” he introduces himself. He has a nice smile. He speaks like he’s done this many times before, and Michelle doesn’t know how she feels about that observation.

“Michelle,” she says. She looks around the room, everything the same as it had been before–though, she does remind herself that it’d only been a short time since her first date. “Let’s check the date?”

“I already have the device ready,” Brad waves his in the air, the app open and button ready to be pushed for synchronization. She quirks her brow subtly. 

As soon as she prepares hers, Karen announces, _“Nine months.”_

Oh. 

Cool. That’s– ”that’s great,” Michelle purses her lips, a forced smile. There’s something about 9 months that makes her feel uneasy. What is it about the third trimester of this temporary relationship that would cause it to break (if the system worked as it did before)?

Michelle will never know the reason, only the time span. And when she knows the duration of something, she often equates it to its core meaning.

And Michelle already _knows_ this will not mean much – that _Brad_ will not mean much to her at all.

* * *

**him.**

Rare pants and groans scatter the sounds of the room as Peter tries to explore Felicia’s body. Mid-moan, she holds her breath and sighs before asking, “Can we go for it?”

He lifts his head from between her legs, “You sure?”

“Yeah,” she shrugs. “It’s fine.”

Peter frowns, lifting his body and hovering over her. “Hey.”

“You smell like dinner,” she deadpans. She is not satisfied, but Peter is determined.

“Sorry,” he licks his lips. He eases into her and she closes her eyes slowly. Their bodies are moving one after the other, both of them struggling to find a balance of motion.

“Maybe we should switch around,” Felicia suggests. Peter accepts. 

After a long night of tangled limbs, Peter finds harmony as he thrusts into her. He is magnetized, suspended in pure bliss as he comes. 

* * *

**her.**

Michelle and Brad lie on the bed, occupying opposite ends and catching their breaths on their own. She can’t complain – she appreciates Brad’s honesty from when they had first arrived at their house. 

After they finish, Brad offers her a glass of water. He finishes his cup quickly, exhaling dramatically after setting the cup down. Michelle laughs. Brad asks, “What?”

“You didn’t hear that?” Michelle tilts her head. 

Brad, confused and eyebrows scrunched says, “No.”

Michelle dismisses it. 

* * *

**him.**

He turns over to the other side, restless. Peter’s energy is depleted. When he looks at the digital clock reading 3:56 am, he groans. His body is awake from overstimulation, Felicia going second, third, fourth rounds with him since they got to their house after dinner.

Peter enjoys it – he truly does. But he wishes he could talk to her. He wishes for the sound of her light snores in his ear as they sleep. He wants to feel nervous and shy but charged with a desire to learn more about her. 

But, three hours into their escapades, Felicia admitted she wanted exactly opposite of that.

Unable to shake away his spiral of useless thoughts, Peter gets up from the bed, taking his device with him. Peter mumbles into the speaker as he asks, “So, I can’t just alt+control+delete out of this?”

_“You cannot, Peter.”_

“Okay. But what if I know she doesn’t like me–”

_“No, Peter.”_

He gives up, taking up space on the sofa of their small lobby of a living room, hoping that maybe he can find a comforting spot to sleep away from his fears for the next year.

* * *

**her.**

_Sip. Gulp. Exhale._

Michelle closes her eyes softly, begging into the void for one more ounce of patience. 

_Exhale._

“Hey, Brad,” she sets her book down as she turns to her side, facing him. He looks at her and smiles. She sighs, continuing, “Do you know you do this thing where you exhale pretty loudly?”

“Oh?” he frowns. “Okay, I’ll try to stop. Sorry.”

“Just an observation,” she states.

“Oh, okay. Cool,” he shrugs.

_Sip. Gulp. Exhale._

_Exhale._

Fuck.

* * *

**him.**

He kind of hates the jealousy that rings through him while he watches a different couple speak about their experiences with the system. They have been together four months since Pairing Day, meaning that this is it for them. They have finished their journey and found each other. 

Peter longs for that.

Felicia’s hands are clammy, intertwined with Peter’s. She has already pointed out his hands are too dry, and hers are perfectly fine. He didn’t bother to disagree.

“–That’s why you should have faith in the system because it does deliver,” he says, arms linked with his partner’s.

His partner lowers his body closer to the mic. “You have so many experiences, and then one day it provides you with your ultimate match.”

“It’s seamless.”

They continue to advocate for the system. Peter leans against the tree as he and Felicia find a place in the shadows, not wanting to be actively engaged in the annoying speeches. That much the two of them could agree on. He scans the crowd, and then he sees her.

Michelle. His heart pumps faster. His chest tightens. 

He never thought he would see her again. But she’s there. She exists. Suddenly, Peter is filled with a sliver of hope for what is to come. 

As the crowd breaks into applause and everyone hunts for hor d'oeuvres, Peter sees from his peripherals Michelle almost tiptoeing towards him, like it was forbidden. 

“Hey,” she nudges him almost awkwardly, but the feeling is familiar and warm. 

“Hi,” he says. “You look. Nice. You look nice.”

She bites her lips from laughter, staring at him fondly. Peter feels like goo. “You too.”

They linger in silence as someone approaches Michelle’s side, his arms wrapping around her waist. “Hey. Who’s this?”

“Peter,” she answers quickly. Michelle doesn’t hold back her grin. She looks hopeful, too. “We... we dated. For a bit.”

“Oh,” Brad nods along. “Cool.”

“Yeah,” Peter shrugs, though he feels like an idiot for providing any content for this conversation. “I–my date is over there. Felicia.”

When he calls for her, she turns and tilts her head at Michelle and Brad. She marches over, hugging Peter from the side and placing a hand lightly on a chest as she says, “I’m Felicia.”

“We heard,” Michelle smiles, a genuine return of acknowledgment. Felicia tenses in Peter’s arm. 

As the exchanges died down, the tension became sharper and there was no longer a way to continue the conversation. Brad is the first to give up as he offers, “Well, we should get home, Michelle.”

“Oh, right,” Michelle pats her surroundings, though she looks to have everything in one small bag. Peter chuckles at her flushed cheeks. Before walking away, she stares into his eyes like they have a shared secret language. Peter vows to himself to memorize the freckles on her face and the curve of her cheekbones in that moment knowing it could be the last time they see each other again.

Peter continues to watch her walk away shamelessly. Felicia shows no emotion towards it, only tapping her foot impatiently as a desire to go home. 

As soon as Michelle is out of sight, Peter returns to his normal state of mind, grateful for the last moments he had shared with her, even though he knows they could never end up together.

* * *

**her.**

_“Please step into the vehicle.”_

Brad turns to her one last time. “This was chill.”

“Yeah,” she nods, wanting Brad out of sight immediately. She didn’t mind the past few months–Michelle was physically satisfied. Nothing went wrong except for his damn exhales. She’s surprised she didn’t error herself out of this after two weeks of listening to Brad’s habits. Despite that, it was fine, even though watching him drive away in his own vehicle brought a feeling of relief to Michelle. 

“Finally,” she mumbles. Immediately, before her own vehicle even arrived, her device mind a sound. Another date. 

Already. 

Michelle finds her date in the same restaurant. She waves at Michelle nervously as they both walk over to their table. They make small exchanges. They order their food. Both of them are nervous, her date–Liz–revealing that this was her first time.

She knows exactly how Liz feels. They pull their devices out, ready to find out their time together. 

_36 hours._

They laugh. It’s silent but comfortable. Liz holds Michelle’s hand on the way to the house.

Michelle falls apart, legs wrapped around her neck for the next few nights. 

After two days, they say goodbye. Michelle becomes used to the sight of someone leaving her behind again. It is a strange feeling. It is hollow. 

Her device pings again. 

And it keeps pinging.

And they keep leaving.

And Michelle just wants everything to stop.

Or something that lasts longer than she can count on her fingers.

But it pings one more time.

* * *

**him.**

“Well, it’s been nice, Felicia,” Peter says flatly. 

_It wasn’t awful_ , he thinks to himself. He just wants more. He wants his heart to be satisfied. Plus, there was an expiration date on this _relationship_ anyway. There is no point in trying, if, in the end, Peter will watch someone walk away from him regardless of his efforts.

“Actually, it really was,” she says. “You were fun, Peter.”

He blushes. She raises the windows of her vehicle, winking a look into Peter’s gut that makes him nervous. 

His shoulders relax when she can no longer be spotted.

And surprisingly–as the most impossible thing that could ever happen in Peter’s life happens– his device _pings_ immediately. 

* * *

**her.**

She gasps. Her leg bumps into the table, scattering the utensils. “What?”

They both share a satisfying laugh. Michelle is still shocked. She doesn’t know if who she’s looking at is real. Though she remembers him like he’s the only person Michelle can vividly remember. 

Peter. In the flesh. In the same table they had met some time ago, Michelle not bothering to count the days, weeks, months, years that have passed since their first encounter. Their only encounter. Until now.

“You think there’s something wrong?” Peter jokingly asks. She softens at his humor. She doesn’t realize she had missed the way he chuckles after his own quips. He pulls out his device as he inquires, “Karen, are we both sitting at the right table?”

_“That is correct, Peter.”_

He sets his device down and smiles at her proudly like he’s made a giant revelation. Michelle melts into his grin as she scoots into her chair. He gestures to his device, accessing the expiry app only for Michelle to place her hand on top of his. The touch is electric but sudden. She watches Peter tense up when he looks at her. 

“Can we not check the expiry date?” she tries. Peter tilts his head. 

“Why not?”

Michelle contemplates disregarding her previous request. She knows everything happens for a reason, and not knowing won’t change the result of their limited time together. She’s just.

“–Just tired of it,” she mumbles. Peter tightens his lips and nods. 

“Okay,” he says. She wishes she knew what he felt at that moment. But his eyes look solemn and hopeful all at once. It is hard to read.

* * *

**him.**

Not knowing the expiry date. This is fine. It’s more than fine. 

Peter has a second chance with Michelle. This is already more than what he thought he would have. He was prepared of making her just a plain old memory, something he can never experience again.

But she’s here. In the flesh. 

And she’s asking to keep the expiry date unknown, but all Peter is thinking is that he gets to spend time with her and exist in the same space as her. From ten minutes to ten years, Peter does not mind. 

This is why he accepts her suggestion.

And now, they are both sitting at the edge of the bed, hands touching softly. 

“So,” Peter starts. His hand reaches the back of his neck to calm his nerves. “Remember what we had confessed when–”

“I do. I remember,” Michelle interrupts. She pulls back immediately, “Sorry. I’m nervous. And kind of excited.”

His heart pumps a bit faster. “You are?”

“Of course I am. It’s you.”

“Me too,” he says. “With you.”

“I figured,” she says. “Unless you want to admit you’re into yourself.”

“I can be into myself and into you,” he argues.

“Can you just kiss me now?” Michelle asks. 

He freezes and then melts away immediately. “Okay.”

Peter scoots in closer, one hand grazing Michelle’s thigh, making its way higher. The other hand rests carefully behind her. It’s awkward. But he can’t help it. He’s just excited to press his lips against hers. 

And when he does, it’s magic.

And Peter feels his body explode in complete pleasure and desire. They quickly take away each other’s clothes, an urgent feeling striking through Peter’s veins. He has never felt this way about anyone before. In fact, he’s positive he’s never _felt_ anything before until now. 

Until being with Michelle, their bodies pressed against each other, sticky from the sweat of synchronized motions and heavy breathing. Her moans of his name, mixed in between curses sound like a symphony crafted specifically for him. 

He is graced with the view of watching Michelle suspended in pleasure as they chase each other’s finish. 

Peter’s feelings are unmatched. Michelle is the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with. There is no Ultimate Other if it isn’t her. 

When days pass, Peter watches Michelle loosen up about their expiry date. She no longer mentions it, and Peter no longer spots her eyeing her device with curious eyes. And when weeks pass, he still can’t stop thinking about how little time they will have together. 

He wants to know the expiry date. He _needs_ to know. 

Peter wants to prepare himself for how long he has before he can no longer watch the way Michelle gets lost in a new book every other day. She rotates two books a month. Sometimes she squeezes in a third. He wants to cook for her, take walks with her, and spend the rest of their lazy Sunday mornings with her. 

If there’s a time limit to it, Peter needs to know now, or else he will not be able to recover from longing for her ever again. But when he watches Michelle fall asleep, Peter knows their promise – the one they shook on – is more important than knowing when their end is. 

He tries to hold off from sneaking a look at the expiry date for as long as he can. 

Then one night, after they spend hours exploring each other’s bodies and tracing their hands against each other’s skin, Michelle throws her arms around Peter. She’s already falling asleep, bringing her legs to wrap around his waist as she mumbles, “I can get used to this.”

“Me too. I wish we could just press stop with the system and stay with each other. Isn’t that how it should be? Having the right to choose,” Peter allows himself to reveal his deepest curiosities. “What if we’re just accepting what they do because they tell us it’s right?”

Michelle takes a deep breath, lifting herself from his arms and sitting up as she returns with, “Peter, you know it has a 99.8% success rate.” 

“But how do you know they’re perfect matches, Em?” he asks. “Don’t you ever think this might just be them throwing us into relationships until they know we can’t handle it anymore? And then they offer us one out, and we’re supposed to accept that as who we're supposed to be with?”

Michelle blinks. He can’t read her. 

But he has a feeling she doesn’t agree with what he’s saying.

With hesitance, Peter continues, “And then we just settle because we’re tired of having to go through the same thing every time.”

He swims in her eyes. Michelle looks hopeful like maybe she’d thought the same thing before. She breathes away her emotions, defaulting to an unreadable face despite how hard Peter tries to understand how Michelle is feeling.

She snorts. “You’re basically saying, _What if we’re living in a simulation?_ ”

“How would we know?” he shrugs. He feels smug and smart for pointing it out because it kind of stuns Michelle. 

She shoves him playfully. He flinches for a beat and then says, “What if I was programmed to react like that?”

Michelle rolls her eyes, Peter feeling nervous that he’d gone too far with his joke. Even though it isn’t a joke. It is his fear. “You’re overthinking it.”

“Yeah,” he says immediately, though he doesn’t believe it. She snuggles close to him again and falls into slumber soundly. 

Peter can’t possibly fall asleep after that. Now, he lays still in Michelle’s arms. 

He keeps staring at the ceiling, trying to compute numbers in his head. Possibilities he might come across if he looks at the expiry date. There are too many possibilities. He can’t know until he finds out. He eases slowly out of Michelle’s arms, and luckily, she’s a heavy sleeper. He sneaks away quickly, sliding across their bedroom floor and into the living room, gripping onto his device for dear life. 

Peter stares at the screen. The button is there to reveal the date. He contemplates for a beat, dismissing any potential consequence that can come of this. His curiosity is breaking him. 

“Karen,” he requests.

“ _Yes, Peter?”_

“The expiry date for me and Michelle. I need to know.”

_“Are you sure?”_

“You’re not going to talk me out of it?” 

_“Would you like me to talk you out of it?”_

Peter is stunned. He closes his eyes for an answer. “No, we shook on it. I shouldn’t.”

But he wants to. 

Peter sighs as he says, “Fuck it.” He presses the button.

_4 years and 1 month left._

Peter’s smile is of both happiness and something else entirely; it is of relief. His heart still aches knowing their time together is not as long as he wants. But at least it is long enough for him to savor the hours they spend with one another. 

It’s long enough to really fall in love with Michelle, though Peter knows he probably already is in love with her. It’s like from the moment he met her – on their first time – Peter had already known her. 

Then suddenly, Karen alerts him. 

_“Recalibrating.”_

“What?” he looks to the screen. The time is glitching. It is no longer 4 years and 1 month. It is going from thirty years to 3 months to 2 years. Peter’s heartbeat races. He looks to the room and hears shuffling. Michelle can’t find out. She can’t.

_“Recalibrating.”_

“Karen, what’s happening? It’s getting shorter,” Peter panics, hand gripping the device in his hand and pacing in the living room.

“ _One-sided observation has destabilized the expiry date.”_

“Cause I looked at it own, I made it shorter?” 

“ _That is correct, Peter._ ”

He feels his heart slowly begin to crumble, a heavy weight at the bottom of his gut holding him down and making him drag his body through the wooden floor of the living room that he’s learned to love in the presence of Michelle.

Peter sinks to the couch. “Why?”

_“Everything happens for a reason.”_

“Okay. Press undo. Go back.”

_“I cannot do that.”_

“Why not? What if Michelle sees?”

_“Once shortened, the expiry date cannot be extended.”_

“Why?” Peter begs, firmly and pleading. He is desperate to do anything that will help save the moments he has with Michelle. 

_“Everything happens for a reason.”_

“Please stop. When will it stop?” Peter is frantic. He doesn’t know what to do. He knows he can’t do anything at all. It is done. He has ruined it. Peter will never see Michelle ever again.

_“It will stabilize once recalibration is complete.”_

Peter groans. He takes several deep breaths, trying his best not to burst into panic, making sure to keep his worries in hushed whispers so Michelle won’t wake up. 

_Ping!_

Peter looks at the screen.

His heart shatters completely.

* * *

**her.**

Her body wakes up before her mind. She peeks out of the window in their room, and it is bleak outside, but it is bright. Peter has left an empty feeling on their bedsheets. Michelle reminisces about the night before, Peter’s tongue tracing her up and down her body, reaching her center – helping Michelle reach her peak. 

She takes a deep breath before pulling his hoodie on, slipping on shoes to catch him after his morning run.

Once she’s outside, Michelle stuffs her hands in Peter’s hoodie’s pocket, spotting him by the river skipping rocks. He looks stiff and exhausted. 

_1, 2, 3, 4._

He huffs. Her arms wrap around him from behind, from which Peter’s body stiffens even harder until he relaxes into Michelle’s touch. It is natural. And yet, there’s something different about the way Peter’s reacting. 

“What’s wrong?” she prompts. Peter doesn’t respond. “ _Peter._ ”

She slips her arms away from him, feeling hurt and confused – more lost by the minute because of Peter’s telling silence. He turns to her, eyes red from exhaustion. From tears? She wants to know. Now. 

He sighs, stepping closer, only for Michelle to take two steps backward. Peter gives up as he reveals, “Michelle.”

“What?”

“Have you ever seen more than four? Or less?” 

Michelle blinks. “ _What_?”

“Rocks skipping. In the river?”

“Peter, cut the bullshit. Are you okay?”

Peter sighs again. This time he looks at her with honest eyes, so honest that she’s afraid to hear the truth for the first time in her life. “I looked.”

She swallows. No. This can’t be. “We promised, Peter. We–we shook on it.” Michelle doesn’t even try to control the trembling disappointment lodged in her voice. She feels betrayed. She never thought Peter would do something like this to jeopardize their relationship.

“And–and it. It shortened.”

Her heart sinks lower, seeping out of her body through her skin like a dull roar throughout her body. “How–how long?” He is quiet for a beat. She puts a hand on his shoulder. “ _How long_?”

“We’ve got about an hour left.”

“Fuck,” she breathes. She doesn’t even want to look at him. Michelle faces away, focusing on the echoing waves in the river. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I didn’t want to ruin today.”

“Don’t you think this ruined it?” Michelle feels his hand linger near hers. She wants to grab it, but she is hurt and doesn’t believe Peter deserves the touch of her skin right now. “What happened?”

“I looked. It glitched. And it went down. We were supposed to have four years, Michelle.”

“Jesus–Peter, _four years_ to one hour?” she clutches her chest. “How could you do this? Why did you press it?”

“Because... Michelle. I really like you. Like, really.”

“Wasn’t that enough?” she nearly cries. She is never this upset. Michelle’s feelings are never this strong, never this deeply rooted in her heart. “Fuck, Peter.”

“I think we can overcome it, Em. I think we can do something to–”

“Everything happens for a reason.”

“You sound exactly just like them.”

“Peter, what are you talking about?” she scoffs. “It’s–it’s done. It’s over. You looked. You broke our promise.”

“Why are you more upset about that than about the _one hour_ we have left together?” Peter tries, but it doesn’t work on Michelle. Not this time.

“Because we promised.”

“I’m sorry, Michelle,” he reaches for her hand. She allows their fingers to intertwine for a moment, caving in to all of her feelings. “...But what if we just ignored it?”

Her head whips to stare into his eyes, expecting an explanation. 

He hesitates, and then says, “Like, fuck the system, Em. Let’s jump over the wall and throw it all away. We don’t have to listen to them.”

“There’s nothing out there,” Michelle nearly shouts into this crisp air and perfect weather. “You ruined it.”

“Michelle,” he pleads. He wants to walk after her as she slips away from his vicinity. “ _Michelle_.”

“Don’t follow me,” she warns him. She wants to be alone. She can’t believe he did this. He ruined it for them. _Four more years with Peter._ Gone. Vanished, just like that. She can’t even control it. Fuck the system, she thinks. The voice of Peter’s words rang in her head. He’s right.

But there’s nothing they can do anymore. 

Everything happens for a reason.


	3. part three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here!! The final chapter!! Let me scream!!

**him.**

“Why?” Peter sobs, sitting on the floor of his bedroom, begging for answers, only for the device to repeat the same statement over and over again. 

_Everything happens for a reason._ It’s a mantra that sticks to him, a leather seat on a blazing hot summer day. It’s a mantra that drives this entire system, a mantra that Michelle often repeated, a mantra Peter refuses to believe because there’s absolutely nothing that can explain why the girl of his dreams was ripped away from him.

And maybe Peter ruined it by looking at the expiry date without Michelle, but regardless of his slip up, their relationship had an inevitable end. They are not meant to be together. They are not each other’s Ultimate Compatible Other. Peter and Michelle were only meant to be for four years, and – for _whatever_ reason it could be in some _other_ life - they were supposed to part once their time was over.

Peter daydreams often.

A life outside, in whatever wilderness is beyond these walls.

A life beyond what he, Michelle, and the entire population are confined to.

A life where he can choose. But _why_? Why can’t Peter choose?

He rests his head softly on the edge of the bed, goosebumps running throughout his body as he thinks about the last moments he had with Michelle, at the lake by the house that was made for them. He tried to follow her, shouting into the sky, begging for a chance to explain himself further, begging for a chance to run away.

As Michelle stormed off to the public park, Peter saw the eyes of other, _happy_ , couples at the park stare him down – a looming sense of judgment and danger piercing through his soul. He stopped. He didn’t follow her. It was Michelle’s only request anyway.

But why were they staring? What was the reason?

“What reason?” he begs once, twice, three times through broken sobs. 

“ _The system will be accessing your reaction to the painful premature termination of a treasured relationship and will adjust and improve its profile of your eventual chosen one accordingly.”_

“That’s–” his voice cracks, a strong feeling piercing his heart as he hisses, “that’s comforting.”

_“Thank you.”_

Peter tosses the device onto the floor, sliding it far away, across the room. He mumbles, “I swear I’ll get out of this damn place.”

To his surprise, the device picks up his voice saying, “ _That would contravene the rules of the system.”_ The fucking system. _“Failure to comply may result in banishment.”_

“Fuck–Karen–I get it. I get it,” he raises his voice, only to feel embarrassed about the fact that he’s screaming into an inanimate object, begging a machine for a second chance as if it had the power to reverse the stupid decision he made without Michelle. “I’m just… angry.”

The realization hits him quickly. He hasn’t felt angry in a while. He hasn’t _felt_ in a while, Peter racking his brain for any memories - of frustration, of happiness, of fear - that triggered any kind of emotion in him. 

He can only think of Michelle. That has to mean something. 

And Peter’s going to figure it out. 

* * *

**her.**

It all feels the same.

Another date. 

Another thinly-veiled slice of a romantic experience. 

Another expiration. 

Another goodbye.

Yet Michelle can’t feel anything. Not anymore – not since Peter. 

She smiles lazily at all of her assigned partners, offering a weak laugh at a joke, disregarding any and all attempts to get to know one another. All she wishes is for this cycle to end, no longer being able to accept reality, feeling as if she’s a body floating from one person to the next, longing for the day she is finally notified of the eventual end to the dreadful search for her person.

Michelle loses count of how many interactions she’s been handed. It hurts to keep track knowing that in these three, ten, twenty experiences she could have had one experience–with Peter–for four years. 

She understands four years is not much the same way she understands Peter isn’t her person.

But somehow - despite losing count – in every encounter she finds herself in, she compares them to Peter. Michelle compares the way she feels when their hands touch for the first time, longing for that electric pulse in her soul that coursed through her on the first encounter with Peter when they were too nervous to do anything but hold hands in the dark of their shared bedroom.

She never feels anything.

Only longing. For Peter. For a life where she can find him again and tell him _yes, Peter, let’s fucking run away together._ She shouldn’t have walked away so quickly, her anger pushing her to walk away with unbelievable ease that she had forgotten she would never see Peter again afterward.

Peter upset her, this much is true. But why is she more hurt at her own lack of agency than anything else that comes her way? 

Why _can’t_ Michelle make up her mind? Why is she trapping herself into a little box with no doors? Has she always been this way?

These thoughts run through her head as she faces each bed, as she experiences one lover from the next, her vision blurring in and out of what feels like a mundane, monotonous, dark existence.

* * *

**him.**

Peter thinks of her in every instance. 

She is the flickering candle in the corner of a dark room, bringing an abundance of light and energy in his heart as he drags onto every experience that the system puts in his way.

She is every emotion at once. 

She is Michelle. 

And he is Peter.

And he can never let go of _them_.

* * *

**her.**

_1, 2, 3, 4._

Michelle tilts her head, curious, breathing in the crisp air of another perfect day. It’s the second rock she’s tossed into the lake, not knowing how else to spend her time in between dates, every hour becoming an endless loop of time she can’t escape from. 

She shakes the feeling away every time it comes – the feeling that there’s _something_ _out there_. The same feeling Peter never shied away from mentioning. 

After one deep breath, hand clutching another rock, Michelle chucks it into the water again. 

Four skips again. She walks away.

* * *

**him.**

_“Congratulations, Peter. Your ultimate match has been identified.”_

* * *

**her.**

She steps out of the community pool, body dripping in chlorine-infused water, ready to dry herself off as her phone rings. 

It’s a different ring than before, Michelle quickly rushing to figure out what it means, only for her heart to break in two when Karen answers, _“Congratulations, Michelle. Your ultimate match has been identified. Your pairing day is tomorrow.”_

She doesn’t feel happy. She doesn’t even feel relieved.

All Michelle wants is to see Peter again.

“Oh,” she says. “Ultimate as in… the one?”

_“That is correct.”_

“And we meet tomorrow?”

 _“That is correct,”_ the repetition in Karen’s voice makes Michelle want to chuck it across the damn pool. _“Tomorrow you will be coupled with your ultimate match.”_

“Okay.”

_“And together, you will leave this place forever.”_

_Forever_ , Michelle repeats to herself, not even thinking about who this person could be and only wishing for the person to be Peter. If it’s Peter, they’ll leave the place together, _forever_ , and see what’s out there. She bites her lips, a deep and nervous thing as she reluctantly asks, “Are you allowed to tell me anything about them? Have I met them before?”

She closes her eyes, wishing. 

_“Negative.”_

Heartache has never felt so familiar.

A beat.

And another.

 _“There is one more thing._ ”

“What’s that?” she rolls her eyes, pacing back and forth, the feeling of tiles scratching her feet. 

_“Prior to_ Pairing Day _, you have been allocated a short farewell period with an individual of your choosing.”_

Michelle stops in her tracks, her entire body tensing as she asks, “I get to say goodbye to someone?”

_“Data shows this can provide psychological closur–”_

“Peter,” Michelle interrupts–disregarding the statistics, the data, the damn 99.8% success rate–and only choosing her heart. “I choose Peter.”

_“Your choice has been registered.”_

She smiles to herself, finally drying off and walking away before asking, “Wait, where are we meeting?”

_“The same table is saved for you, as always.”_

Something about Karen’s answer sparks a fire in Michelle’s heart knowing that–even though she’s made her way to the same place at the same time for what seems like an infinite amount of times–at the end of all of this, it’s Peter. 

She doesn’t care for what is after. She only cares that she has one more chance to see Peter again. One more chance to make it right, despite what the system says. 

“Right…” she stops at the doorway of the community pool. “Hey, Karen?”

“ _Yes, Michelle?”_

“Count to four.”

And as Karen begins her count, Michelle tosses the phone in the pool, watching the device skip – _1, 2, 3, 4_ – and then sink beneath the water, never to be seen again.

* * *

**them.**

In the dim light of the restaurant, Michelle makes her way hastily through a crowd of strangers, knowing exactly where to go and exactly what she wants out of her farewell. She only has one chance to do this right: to take that offer Peter had mentioned ages ago. She ignores the eyes that are locked on her for rushing to the same table they were in when they met for the first time, aware that what she’s about to attempt to do needs to be timed perfectly, or else it won’t work.

Or else they could both be banished.

She’s moving on a whim, deciding to go against the forces of whoever is in charge of this life, hoping that maybe, with a slim chance, Peter chooses her, too.

Immediately, a smile brushes across her face as she spots Peter, who’s already getting up to meet her in a warm, long embrace. She holds her face tight against his shoulder, leaning back only to look at him with her eyes no longer lost. 

She finds her lips pressing against his, their actions speaking for them, wanting this moment to last forever. She doesn’t want time to pass. She only wants and cares about Peter, clinging onto the fact that nothing ever felt real other than him. 

His hands fit perfectly against the small of her back, one of them making its way to the back of her head, his fingers combing through her hair as her tongue begs his, as they kiss and kiss and begin to feel like one – begin to feel whole again.

When they pull apart from each other, Peter peppers her with endless kisses. He can’t get enough of her, finally learning what it means to want to only ever be with one person for the rest of his life. His lips tremble as they finally pull apart, Peter doing his best to ignore the eyes that are glued onto them as if the two of them are a force to reckon with when they become one.

It’s only after, when the ghost of her lips still linger on his, that he hopes Michelle listens to him one last time. He wants to take this chance, to convince her that there _is_ something out there – that they _can_ climb out of here and ditch the system and run away together. 

He hopes she wants the same, pulling her into the booth as he says, “Let’s check how long we have with one another.”

Michelle quickly trails after him, scooting close to him that their thighs touch. She never wants to forget the feel of Peter’s skin on hers, watching him intently as he grabs his device, slams it onto the table, and huffs, “Fuck.”

 _1 minute and 23 seconds_.

Each second that passes, Michelle feels that dull ache in her chest becomes sharper, like the very presence of Peter Parker has struck a chord in her entire existence. He makes her feel alive. 

She watches him glance around the room, the clatter of dishes returning to its standard volume when the outside eyes look away and he whispers, “Look, tomorrow… tomorrow I will meet my Ultimate Match. The system set this up for me.”

“Me too,” she murmurs, eyes looking deep into Peter’s. 

“I don’t want whoever the system set me up with, okay?” he says, eyes softening at Michelle as he smiles. “I want you.”

The little grin tucked in the corner of her lips, the same one that he’d fallen in love with from the beginning, makes his stomach flutter. She says, “I want you.”

_“Failure to comply may result in–”_

He tosses the phone on the ground and sighs. “Michelle I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have looked. I was scared, and I wanted to know because I didn’t want it to be soon, and I messed everything up, and I know you’re angry because I broke our promise but–”

“Peter,” Michelle’s whisper is almost as soft as her eyes when she looks at him, her voice a comforting sound wrapping itself around Peter’s heart. “It’s okay. I like it better broken.”

A tear falls down his cheek, Michelle using her thumb to wipe it away, brushing her fingers softly across his skin before gently placing it on his shoulder, squeezing it and asking, “Can you remember where you were before you came here?”

The device begins to beep, their time coming to an end.

Peter uses all his energy to answer her question, to remember what he was doing, only for him to admit, “No. No, I can’t.”

“Me neither.”

His eyes squint in deep thought as her eyes widen. “Why can’t…”

“It’s a test, Peter,” Michelle nods frantically at him, her words escaping her mouth before she can gather her thoughts, hoping that Peter understands because he has always understood. She urges on. “Do you remember how you felt when we first met? That night?”

Suddenly, the same, familiar feeling manifests inside Peter’s body and the horrible, aching dread of an endless and meaningless experience escapes his heart. He remembers feeling safe, comfortable, at home. “Like something locked into place. Like we’d met before.”

Michelle keeps nodding, tears welling up in her eyes as she feels a sheer sense of validation from Peter’s words, like everything is clicking. They look at each other, visualizing the gears in their heads turning as it all falls into place, as they begin to make sense of this world. 

“It’s like it happened before and it will happen again,” she affirms him. “Like it’s happened–”

“A thousand times over and over again,” he finishes her sentence. His breathing intensifies, the device on the floor beeps louder and louder as the noise around them raises in volume. 

“You get me,” Michelle whispers.

Peter does. He always does. “Yeah.”

She focuses on her view of Peter, disregarding anyone else that surrounds them. No one else matters. No one else is real. “Ever since we met, this world has been trying to keep us apart. It’s a test, Peter. I promise. And–and…”

Michelle’s hand moves from his arm to his hands, intertwining their fingers. She stutters, nervous, and urgent, “we have to run away together. If we run away together we’ll pass it, Peter. I swear.”

His thumb caresses her knuckles. “We–we have to.. We have to say, _fuck the system_.”

“Fuck the system,” she repeats, her voice filled with earnest hope. “We have to see what’s out there, no matter what it is.”

“Over that wall.”

“Exactly. You and me, Peter.”

“Together.”

In this life, and the next.

The device beeps. Fifteen seconds left. Michelle offers, “So let’s go.”

Peter looks at her, and she looks back. They have made this decision before. Perhaps, they’ve always known what they had to do. They’ve known the exact moment they met at this very table. He accepts. “Yeah. Let’s go, Em.”

The device stops beeping. The world around them falls silent.

And all eyes begin to lock onto them.

This is a test, Michelle reminds herself, squeezing Peter’s hand as they step out of the booth. 

Everyone is watching as Michelle pulls Peter from the table, holding him close to her while they make their way toward the entrance. A security guard marches towards them, hand reaching into his pocket, pulling out a taser as he inches closer to Peter and Michelle. 

The electricity pulses around the machine. Peter and Michelle both stop walking. He tries to pull Michelle back, but she slips away from his grasp for a moment, edging closer to the taser. Slowly, she raises her hand and places it closer to the weapon, pressing her palm slowly on the machine.

Michelle doesn’t get hurt, the weapon turning off immediately the moment she covers it. Peter gasps audibly as Michelle shoves the security guard’s arm downward.

And then everyone freezes. Except for the two of them. Quickly, they scan their surroundings, both of them unable to grasp the idea of what’s happening, but accepting that they can never understand the world around them – only each other. 

In that moment, Peter grabs Michelle’s hand and pulls her. They start marching toward the exit as if they can’t stop even if the time has stopped for them and only them. The spectacle is unbelievable, Peter peering at every couple and every person, blinking rapidly as if he’ll wake up from a sick dream, but he sure hopes it’s real – even if he doesn’t know what real is anymore.

Even outside, in the fresh and clear air, bystanders stand like statues. The darkness is still, a beam of moonlight shining down on Peter and Michelle like a spotlight on center stage. 

Peter and Michelle start to run, making their way to the very wall that’s blocking them from the truth of the world. As they reach the bottom of the ladder, both of them take a minute to catch their breath, overwhelmed by the largest obstacle they’ve yet to face: a seemingly endless wall with no sense of what can be, if they even can _be_ , beyond it.

“Wait,” Peter grabs Michelle’s hand before she starts climbing. “Whatever’s beyond this wall for us, Em, I–” 

“Me too,” she interrupts him, a familiar conversation echoing in his heart. 

Peter doesn’t have to say it for Michelle to know.

“Good,” he grins, letting her step onto the ladder and make her way to the top. A surge of energy boosts Michelle’s speed – she’s ready to leave. She’s ready to run away with Peter, certain she’s run away with him before, certain she’ll run away with him again for as long as it takes for them to be able to finally choose each other.

Behind them, the lights of a city that never felt like home start to shut, and for as much as Michelle wants to look back, she continues up the ladder and away, moving with a speed she’d never experienced, until she can’t. 

Until the city's lights are no longer lights, until the buildings disappear, until darkness encompasses her surroundings, and she can no longer feel herself climbing.

The next time she opens her eyes, she’s in a dark room, the walls decorated with a web of numbers. She feels Peter’s hand grab hers and she feels safe. They made the right choice.

It is a test. It _was_ a test. 

And they were taking the 1000th one.

Around them, Peter squints into the distance and sees… them. Hundreds of them, all confused, all looking like they do now. 

They are lost, but they have found each other. 

Before his eyes, the other versions of them begin to merge with each other, a blue streak of energy absorbing their bodies and sending them into the sky. Michelle’s heart is racing, looking up at the number count on the ceiling increasing as their doppelgangers disappear until they are left alone. 

“1000 simulations completed,” Peter reads the screen. The screen blinks, and a new number appears. “998 rebellions logged.”

“99.8% success rate,” Michelle mumbles, answering the questions Peter didn’t even realize he was asking himself. “We’re the last ones.”

He can feel his own body feeling lighter and lighter, turning to Michelle as he declares, “Em, no matter what happens after this, I’m glad I chose you.”

“I’m glad I chose you, too,” she smiles, moving closer to kiss Peter, their hands traveling all over each other’s bodies, getting as much of each other as they can one more time, just in case it might be their last moments together. 

Kissing Peter feels like everything she’s ever known. His lips are every story that she’s heard and loved, and his hands become every feeling that can be named. And as their tongues dance with one another, they both understand that each decision they made has led them to each other, and there’s no other way they could have it. 

They defy all odds, they are a force to be reckoned with, and as they ascend into a plane of nonexistence, the two of them have never felt more incredibly themselves than ever before. 

Peter and Michelle.

Together.

In this life, and the next.

* * *

**him.**

He glances up from his phone screen, his eyes searching for someone who’s looking for him, too. 

Then, he sees her across the room. 

She smiles at him and nods her head, and suddenly, he feels like they’re the only people in the crowded room — the only people in the world. 

This is it. It’s her. It has to be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing. ♥
> 
> Again, as I always say, thank you so much for being patient with me with these works in progress. It's been a rough time writing-wise, but the most exciting part of this all is being able to share this all with everyone who loves Peter and MJ as much as I do.
> 
> Let's chat on [Tumblr!](https://spideysmjs.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Kudos and comments are much appreciated. :)


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